


‘I promise(d)’

by Deak_The_Freak



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Father-Son Relationship, Gabriel is a Softie, Gen, Golden Age, How Jesse Lost his Arm, Hurt / No Comfort, Major Character Injury, Pre-Recall, Protective Gabriel, Swearing, Young Jesse McCree, no graphic descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deak_The_Freak/pseuds/Deak_The_Freak
Summary: The third canon installment of gunnslaughter@tumblr.com's Comic 'I promise' from my tumblr.Links provided to previous comics. 
A mission gone wrong, a bomb, a bleeding stump; and a transport too slow for failing breaths. Gabriel must watch his protege struggle with hollow words, and a heavier heart. 
"You're gonna be alright. I promise."





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the delightful series by Gunnslaughter on tumblr, [ gunnslaughter@tumblr.com ] and would not be here without her glorious self. All rights to the story-line and idea go to her. And Overwatch gets the rest. I'm poor. 
> 
> Part 1: https://gunnslaughter.tumblr.com/post/150187329826/slides-you-a-folder-wanna-read-some-tragic#notes  
> (Voice Over of Part 1: https://gunnslaughter.tumblr.com/post/150310821721/seigiva-i-wanted-you-to-feel-today-so-here-are#notes )
> 
> Part 2: https://gunnslaughter.tumblr.com/post/150358202246/he-focused-on-the-rattle-of-the-transport  
> (Voice Over of Part 2: https://gunnslaughter.tumblr.com/post/150981518336/howling#notes )
> 
> I am a sour cream gringo of the highest quality and failed Spanish.  
> Any and all Spanish in this story is due to Google Translate. Please forgive any typo's, incorrect format, or just plain irreconcilable sentences. Translations will be provided in order at the end.  
> Thank you for your patience. 
> 
> Please Enjoy. : )

An anxious knot had settled in Gabriel’s chest. Coiling tighter with every rattled wheeze; leaving him hyper aware. The sweat in the matted hair against his cheek, the grit of dirt under his fingernails, the way his hand rose and fell on Jesse’s belly.  
  
The way Jesse’s weak grip, slackened on his sleeve, finally falling limp.

Choking down alarm, Gabriel’s arms dragged the limp body a little closer, against his higher rationalization and logic, straining to focus out the window again. His body rocking minutely with the bumpy tempo under them. He couldn’t blame Jesse, couldn’t force him awake, kid had to be exhausted.

But it did nothing to quell the surging fear gnawing at him. Threatening to overwhelm his iron-clad field mentality, the same way a flood swallows a levee.

Frustration screwed his features into a grimace; he hadn’t meant to get attached like this. Jesse was suppose to just be another soldier, that’s what he’d been recruited for. That was the logic of it, Gabriel just couldn’t place where that had stop being truth.

Jesse finally began to quiet again, and he couldn’t help but feel relief as the body relaxed.

Minutes dragged like hours, before the ride became smoother; a sigh shakily hissing out Gabriel’s throat like a release valve burst. “Almost there Jesse.” came quietly, his head turning towards the boy again.

The body was still.

Gabriel blinked, waiting for a wheeze or groan that didn’t come, his throat feeling tight in a dim realization. Jesse wasn’t complaining anymore, wasn’t groaning anymore. Because Jesse wasn’t breathing at _all_.

“Mcree?” The head lolled as he moved his arm. “Jesse!” His sweaty face was ashen, and slack. Too slack. “Hey!” Fingers pressed and waited, there was nothing, no pulse. Gabriel’s chest seized ice cold “No… _no_.”

So close to Jesse’s face, he froze, taking in the fading warmth. Freckles sticking out too much from a face far too young to be so still. Something burned and his eyes began to sting, a faint memory of his Abuela and her rosary praying for him before he left.  

_Que Dios te proteja, Guerra roba todos los niños de sus madres._

“Madre de dios, no lo recibáis …” It wasn’t fair…It wasn’t…it couldn’t… “Es sólo un niño.”

It wouldn’t happen, he wouldn’t _let_ it happen.

Gingerly moving flat on his back, Gabriel knelt at the side as he began CPR. One….Two…..Three…..

“Goddammit Jesse, Breathe!”

They were so close, so damn _close_. They were suppose to get there, Mercy waiting to patch him up, be in the mess by dinner. This wasn’t suppose to happen. None of this was suppose to happen!

“Usted desagradecido hijo de puta!”

Gabriel’s world dimmed in tunnel vision as he worked tirelessly, Jesse jerking silently under the ministration until his head lolled to the side. The window was closing. Hot, wet anger clawed up his throat as he snarled. “Don’t you quit on me you ingrate!”

His throat felt thick, choked as he bit off the words, breathing life and working until the ache in his arms began to burn. “ _Breathe_ _cabrón!_ ” Hands gripped his shoulders from behind, his elbow slamming on reflex as he tried to keep pace desperately. A noise was buzzing around his head as the hands came again, his fist shooting up to connect with a jaw.

“Cmon, cmon, _cmon–”  
_

_“-riel! Gabriel!”  
_

A hand snatched his wrist, “Gabriel!” Angela was practically shouting at him as his head snapped to look at her. When had she-

Some grunt had a mask over Jesse’s face and was pumping the bag in time as she firmly pushed him back her hands already working over the battered body. “We’ve got him, it’s going to be okay.”

Moved to a litter, out of the transport, Jesse’s body swathed up in shock blankets, and on a gurney. Needles already being attached as they sped him out of sight.

Gabriel could only sit there like an idiot in shock trying to comprehend when they’d even landed.

 

* * *

 

Six hours.

Six. Fucking. Hours.

Not so much as a peep, not even a motion of movement behind the double doors. His communicator turned off to ignore the shrill beeping of superiors. Fuck, he hadn’t even removed his field gear.

Lowering his head into his hands, Gabriel tried once more to stifle the trembling in his limbs. Mind numb, trying to wrap around the possible scenarios like a good soldier. Mercy’s grim face with false hope too blatant to do anything but expect the worse.

The world blurred as he dug his palms into his eyes, snarling against the lump in his throat that turned into a pained grimace.

Fingers brushed his shoulder hesitantly, snapping him to look Jack in the face, an ugly bruise forming near his throat.

Oh.

“He’ll be alright Gabe. Angela’s been progressing exponentially in her research. He’s in good hands.” Morrison’s face was a sick mix of sympathy and gentleness that made him want to hurl. Like he was some weak civilian who didn’t understand the monster of hell their lives were.  

His muscles bunched and he rose sharply, trying to calm the tremble out of his bones. Jaw twitching he swallowed and found he couldn’t meet those eyes; too afraid to believe what he found in there. “Of course he will.” His voice sounded fucked up even to his own ears. Too stilted, too forced.

“Gabe.”

“ _What Morrison-”_

Dirty tan filled his vision as he whipped back, stopping cold as Jesse’s hat was lowered into his hands with an understanding look in Jack’s eyes. “I’ll keep the U.N. off your tail. You can debrief later…”

The burning grew too intense as he grasped the worn brim like his Abuela had clutched her rosary. Jack grasped his shoulder once more, and Gabriel found himself grasping the opposite.

A jerk had him falling into a tight hold, Jack holding him together. Hat dangling in his free hand, his face buried in his friend shoulder; Gabriel exhaled a tight wet sound. 

“Thanks Jack.”

He didn’t cry, no matter what Morrison thought after he left. His eyes watered but he didn’t cry as he stared at the hat.

How Jesse’s smile and dumb jokes filtered through his head. How his obscene cowboy regalia and drawled accent warmed up a room with laughter. How he’d call him jefe, worming into the one chink of his armor despite everything.

How he’d laid there in pain, in tears. Covered in his own blood, scared and confused. Looking to him like a–

A broken sound ripped out of him as he clutched the hat closer and buried his face into his hand. Hot tears finally spilling in the privacy of the empty hall.

“Oh Dios, por favor, _por favor_ …No tome mi hijo.”

His voice hitched over a smother sob, echoing against tile.

“…Yo prometi.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> You are at Part 3, the immediate continuation and dubbed canon by the artist.  
> (Added illustration from the original artist: https://gunnslaughter.tumblr.com/post/150724951206/i-promised#notes )
> 
> Translations:  
> Que Dios te proteja, Guerra roba todos los niños de sus madres. - May God protect you, War steals all the children from their mothers.  
> Madre de dios, no lo recibáis - Mother of God, do not receive him  
> Es sólo un niño. - He's just a boy!  
> Usted desagradecido hijo de puta! - You ungrateful son of a bitch!  
> cabrón! - dumbass!  
> Oh Dios, por favor, por favor…No tome mi hijo. - Oh God, please, please...Don't take my son.  
> …Yo prometi. - ...I promised


End file.
